


Eve

by WickedWonder



Category: Disney Princesses
Genre: F/F, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-22
Updated: 2011-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-27 19:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedWonder/pseuds/WickedWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're not quite real. So making something real is the first step.<br/>(Rated for a few un-princesslike words)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deerly (bsafemydeers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bsafemydeers/gifts).



In retrospect, what she had thought was a new beginning turned out to be the beginning of the end.  
Her two sides were reunited, everyone was at peace, and she could turn her attention to other matters. Melody was getting older, and soon would be of an age to marry, and there was still no heir to the kingdom. One of those was more important than the other, but Ariel concentrated on her daughter and her happiness. Eric was happy, and wasn't that all that mattered?  
She never saw the signs until it was much too late, and she was disposed (and what an innocuous term for being thrown out) and alone and this wasn't what she'd wanted, and how had the choices she'd made lead to this?  
She supposes she still would be there, in her lonely tower, if the fantastically blue man hadn't come along and made her 'an offer she couldn't refuse', in his words. Considering how it turned out, she's glad her sense of adventure was intact enough to accept.

 

There'd been six of them at first- Snow, Cindy, Aurora, Jasmine, Belle, and her. All of them had similar stories, ending with a Prince Charming (literally, in Cindy's case) but their paths diverged after that. Snow wouldn't talk about what happened, and Cindy, who had been driven crazy, only would say “I never thought she'd go that far.” Aurora merely yawned and told them in a bored tone that she'd begged to come, that she had met trees with more personality than Phillip. Jasmine, who apparently knew the blue man, had smiled wistfully and talked about missing Rajah, which was an odd name as far as Ariel was concerned. And Belle...  
She'd walked past Belle's door one night, late, and she'd heard the pleas. They sounded as if they were being torn from her throat, as if she was at the absolute last of her being. Ariel had recognized those sounds- she was sure she had issued them when she had learned that Melody was to be kept from her, and told that her mother was gone and had abandoned her. Forgetting that they were all still just acquaintances, had just met, she entered the room and headed straight to the bed. Belle was sitting up, eyes wide, tears streaming, and Ariel took her into her arms. Slowly, she found the tune to the song that Melody would beg her for 'one more verse' before bedtime drifting through her head, and before long, it was flowing out of her in waves, her native Atlantican pushing out the English that she worked hard to keep.  
Belle had long stopped crying by the time Ariel finished, and smiled at her. “Thank you,” she whispered, and Ariel smiled back, and after that, they weren't instant friends, but Ariel felt more centered and part of this than she'd managed.

 

Belle thought there was something wrong with her.  
For the most part, the other girls were sad, somber, (except for Aurora, but it was hard to tell what Aurora was feeling anyway) and sometimes their house felt like a mausoleum. When those sometimes happened, Belle would be out the door with barely a word thrown behind her.  
Belle _loved_ this city.  
There were libraries on practically every corner, and they'd given her a card that let her come and take books home, and not even one at a time. There were bookshops too, and lots of places to just sit and read, and not be in the middle of town with everyone staring. There was a place that sold coffee and pastries, and people would congregate there and talk about books and things that weren't the prices of groceries. Belle would go there, book in hand and purchase croissants and chais and sit in her favorite seat, and open her book, feeling like the most lucky person in the world.  
It was wicked to be so happy, she knew, especially since there was a whole world she'd left behind, full of people that would miss her. On the other hand, she'd been assured that as time went on, their memories of her would fade until they'd just remember a name, a face, and kindness.  
Thinking about this would fade her sense of joy (relief, of feeling like she had wings) for a while, and then the guilt would set in, and the nightmares would start again.  
After the third time Ariel had come into her room, they'd sat together for a while, with Ariel still holding her and Belle wondering at how good it felt. To distract herself she asked, “Is that your native tongue?” and Ariel's nod and brief flash of pain made her put her arms around Ariel in return and try to comfort her.  
Ariel answered something that Belle didn't understand, and repeated, “Do you cry to stay?”  
Belle stiffened and forced out the words, “I asked to go.”  
This is her shame, because Belle had wanted to be kind and had wanted to be something, someone that she never was. This is her anger, too, because had she ever indicated that she would be that person, the woman who fussed about butter and ironing and not caring about all the things she'd always cared about? Why would marriage, of all things, suddenly make her forget how to read?  
“I was a failure,” she told Ariel. “I was supposed to be a Princess, a perfect princess, and I'm not perfect, and everyone expected... expected things. Not one person said, 'you're fine the way you are, you do not need to change'. I felt as if I was dying by slow degrees, a little more of me drifting away every day.”  
“And now?” Ariel asked, and the hopefulness in her voice had been a little thrilling to hear.  
“I... escaped. And it feels wonderful.”  
“Then that's the way it should be,” Ariel said and Belle realized she felt just as hopeful.  
When the dawn came, and they found themselves still intertwined, the smiles they shared before they separated just heightened Belle's sense of lightness.

After that, Belle developed two goals for the short-term. The first she started by visiting the library and asking questions, and the second was getting a driver's license.  
The other girls were aghast. “Why would you want to get into one of those foul conveyances?” Snow kept asking, and Cindy agreed, adding that she didn't see what was wrong with horses.  
“You do realize that no one uses horses for transportation, right?” Belle had argued back. “How do you think I get around? Pixie dust?”  
After that, they'd kept apart from her, like they were afraid they'd catch 'modern', except for Ariel. Ariel had discovered how to use a computer, and spent most of her time doing various things, typing furiously. She touch typed like they saw sometimes on the television, when they were brave enough to turn it on. “You can learn anything on the Internet!” Ariel had said when asked about it, and the first time she said it Belle had thought she'd slipped back into Atlantican.  
“Can you learn how to drive a vehicle?” she asked Ariel, and they looked at instructional videos and read the DMV manual and found an instructor, and in the end, they'd both been the proud possessors of licenses.  
With the money they were making for “posting for stupid, simpering portraits”- Belle's term- being, well, rather generous, they went out and got a car. Ariel had wanted a sporty model and Belle didn't really care, so they'd ended up finding a 1973 Plymouth 'Cuda in this shrieking violet that they loved as soon as they saw it. The owner apparently liked them, because he warned them, “You know you're going to pulled over multiple times in this car.”  
That didn't make any sense to them, so they shrugged and gave him cash (he was a little unnerved by that for some reason) and hopped in, Belle snapping the car keys before Ariel could protest.  
“One down, one to go!” she shouted on the highway, top down, ponytail whipping.  
“What?” Ariel yelled back, trying with both hands to get her hair under control.  
“Will you help me with something else?” Belle laughed and dodged a red curl. “When we get back to the house?”  
When they got home, Ariel and Belle worked on detangling her hair. As they worked, Ariel asked “What did you want my help with?”  
“I need driving directions. Do you know how to make them print on paper?”  
“Yes. Where are you planning to go?”  
Belle smiled. “You'll see. I need a partner.”

Their 'road trip', as they called it, started tomorrow. Their destination wasn't too far, but Belle said she had asked questions when she was researching and learned that starting out too late was a bad idea because of the congestion.  
Ariel had found that she found being in a car relaxing- the motion of the car at certain speeds almost felt like being in the ocean. She drifted as Belle fussed with the radio, picking stations at random and singing along absently.  
“We've been here a year,” she eventually mused out loud, while one station was fading out and another had yet to appear.  
“Hard to believe, yes?” Belle answered, and smiled. “I can't, sometimes.”  
“Me neither. I don't think I could have imagined this if I tried.” The times when she wanted to double over in pain are fewer and less intense, although she didn't miss her daughter less.  
They switched off driving, with Belle saying offhandedly that they'd be on this freeway for around two hours and Ariel would know when to change back. Once she was behind the wheel, Belle pulled out a pair of sunglasses and tipped her seat back. Two minutes later, she was asleep, mouth open, little whiffs of air coming out semifrequently.  
Driving in essentially a straight line was boring, so Ariel thought about what the road ahead would bring. The merchandise with their pictures on it was doing well, she was told, so she would never have to find a traditional job, which was well and good, because she wasn't sure she could market “Mermaid Princess turned Regular Princess turned ex-Princess slash techno geek”.  
“Almost there,” Belle murmured, sitting up on her elbows, eyeing the horizon.  
“How can you tell?” Ariel looked down at where Belle was reaching with one hand to snag the folded papers in the visor.  
“Your speed verses the mile markers,” Belle answered absentmindedly, flipping through the papers. “When you get to the next exit, turn off.”  
There was nothing at the exit but a dilapidated gas station, and they switched back and hit a little road that seemed to be barely paved, the yellow lines faded. “May I see those directions now?” Ariel asked, ready to grab them.  
“We're not lost,” Belle said calmly, looking straight ahead.  
“You're sure? I've read about what happens when you get lost.”  
Belle looked over at her with a small smile. “Trust me.”  
The radio managed to pick up a station, and they listened to music with guitars and violins, songs about home. One of the men singing sounded like he was losing everything, and the longing in his voice made Ariel's eyes well up in sympathy. She sniffed once, trying to forestall a full breakdown.  
She felt her hand be nudged, once, twice, and she looked up to see Belle's hand, next to hers, welcoming. She slipped her own in, wondering how she felt... better.  
They stayed like that, until Belle turned into a gravel road that lead back to a neat little cabin. She parked next to it and got out the car. “Are you coming?” she asked, teasingly.  
Ariel ran inside, exclaiming at how compact the rooms were. It was by far the smallest house she'd ever been in, and it was every much like home, all in blues and greens.  
“Look outside the back,” Belle pointed, and Ariel opened the big blinds to see a deck, and beyond that, sand.  
“You brought me to the ocean,” Ariel breathed, and it all fell into place for her- the gradual smell of salt in the air, the way she'd felt as they got closer and closer, and she was running down the steps and in the sand, Belle's laughter floating behind her as the first wave touched her feet. She was in deep waves before she realized that she was still fully dressed, and came back up to shore long enough before pulling off socks, shoes, and shirt, tossing the waterlogged items vaguely away from her.  
She couldn't swim like she had before, and she'd never make it to Atlantica- she was wholly human, but her body still remembered how to move in water, and she played in the waves, and when she got tired she floated effortlessly and slept, only stirring when low tide beached her. She looked around in sleepy confusion, shook herself and dove back in to rinse off.  
“Well don't you look a sight,” Belle called as she walked up. She had on a loose shirt and was carrying towels, and a book. Ariel got of the water and ran up to her.  
“Thank you!” Ariel impulsively threw her arms around Belle, soaking her and making her drop the towels.  
Belle was obviously surprised, but still returned the hug, yelping a little at Ariel's cold skin. “How are you not blue?” She rubbed at Ariel's arms, which were still around her waist. “You're welcome,” she added, softly.  
Ariel had pulled back slightly to look into Belle's eyes, those warm brown eyes, and kissed her. Why she did it, she couldn't articulate, but she did notice Belle's ardent response, and something had slammed into her as they stood there.  
When they separated, Ariel smiled, a little tentatively. “I had to, I don't know the words-” There are whole paragraphs in her head, but they're not made of words- it's all colors and feeling, with cool water floating through.  
Belle nodded vigorously. “Yes. Yes!”  
As big declarations went, it was terrible, but both Ariel and Belle had given and taken flowery words, big gestures, actual _castles_ \- and it was enough.

Ariel couldn't help but fly her freak flag high, Belle thought privately, but she made everyone want to be as freakish as she was. It had taken the other girls-women- a while, but they had embraced being more than just a participant in a story, as Aurora had put it, debuting her new ink. (Being Aurora, and not that original, she'd gotten a rose with thorns on it.)  
“I don't like skirts,” Mulan had announced one day.  
Ariel, lounging on the couch in shorts and a t-shirt, shouted “Preach!” while grabbing the remote from Pocahontas.  
“So the big announcement is for...” Jasmine prompted.  
“You all seem to like wearing feminine trappings- I want to be able to move and run!” Mulan had just arrived at the house, and Belle noticed that she had been quiet, observing everyone and getting to know them before revealing herself. She must have been one hell of a soldier.  
“I don't wear a dress!” protested Jasmine, which got several snickers from various people.  
“Because a harem outfit is so much more rugged,” Aurora said, as flat as she could get.  
Before the argument could start, Cindy said, eyes wide, “We don't have dress codes, right? Is this inappropriate?” She gestured to her 'casual' outfit of a pleated skirt and blouse wildly. “Do I look like a painted lady?”  
“Only if the 'painted lady' is in disguise as a preppy,” Ariel pointed out, and the not quite a compliment calmed Cindy down (later, she pointed out that Ariel would've outright stated if she looked like a whore, which made Aurora shriek with delight and try to get her to repeat it).  
After that, everyone (except for Snow, the weirdo) relaxed on their iconic outfits, began to see the marvels of indoor plumbing and electricity, and independent thought.

As the months, years, roll on, Ariel finds that the grief in her heart shifts to something a little less heart wrenching and she remembers her family, her daughter, with fondness. Her trips with Belle help, and when she's in the water, nothing can be wrong. Best of all, when she comes out of the water, Belle's right there, towels at the ready, and they sit on the beach and watch the waves, the clouds, the sunset before they go back to their little cabin.  
Sometimes, she wonders how it was so easy for them. Ariel had always been good with adventures, with discovering new things, but she'd never known that there was a whole part of herself that had been asleep, and only awoken once Belle had come into her life. She thinks back to fumbling exploration, how her and Belle had learned together how to make the other sing, and once they'd accomplished it, how to keep the other occupants from killing them.  
She's learned that her favorite moments of the day involve waking up with Belle in her arms, or Belle's arms around her, lying quietly in the dawn and drifting. She's learned that she can't be without Belle, and it something that resonates more than anything she's had in her life.  
“I think I have to marry you,” she whispers one day, in their bedroom.  
Belle stirs, startling Ariel a bit- she'd thought Belle fast asleep. “Why?” Belle murmurs back, shifting until they're pressed against each other.  
“I think it'll be fun, explaining that we're married but we don't have last names,” Ariel laughs softly. “Also, I'm in love with you.”  
“Either works,” Belle answers carelessly before giving Ariel her real answer.  
Because she has a flair for the dramatic, Ariel makes them wear versions of their princess dresses. Not the official ones- they and the 'Cuda don't mix- but the colors are dead on, and they get more than a few stares, going up to the courthouse hand in hand.  
The ceremony itself doesn't take long, and when they emerge, a little dazed, they stop and smile at each other.  
“This is an awesome thing, to be married to you,” Belle says, and her soft smile makes Ariel have to kiss her, right on the steps of the courthouse.  
“I can brag I have a hot wife now. Just wait until my WOW guild hears about this!”

 

 _When they wake up together, the first thing she has to do is reach for her glasses. It amuses her to no end that the portraits they all sit for, all their official gear, pointedly show them without their flaws- Tiana's crooked smile, Aurora's slight dusting of freckles, her own glasses- and their personalities.  
She slides them on and looks over at her wife. As usual, Ariel's fast asleep, hanging slightly off the bed as if she can't be contained to one rectangle. All the covers are off, leaving Ariel in her beloved Colts jersey. Red hair is everywhere, over both sets of pillows, and she just realizes, right underneath her nose. She sneezes, and then laughs as Ariel shoots straight up, face as indignant as if she'd had water tossed on her.  
"%73ght!GInib*... loud," Ariel finishes, getting her English back as her brain wakes up more.  
"Only you would think of a sneeze as loud. Good morning, Ari."  
"Good morning, ma Belle."  
The endearment makes Belle blush, as usual, and she swings to get out of bed, moving her baby-t out of the way to scratch her belly. It's all terribly intimate and terribly touching to both of them._

 

Belle is the best cook, and the worst cook ever.  
Her food tastes divine, if visually unappealing at times ("food doesn't have to be pretty to be good," she insists) but it's good because Belle puts butter in everything. When she arrived and eagerly took over food duties, the other girls noticed that they tended to sleep right after every meal, and when Snow had noticed that her dresses were fitting tighter than they should, they ganged up and introduced Belle to a little thing called PAM. Not that she ever uses it, because she's convinced that only evil food comes in cans. Ariel just laughs and eats everything up, especially the crepes.  
Right now, Belle's at the stove, heating up some leftover Chinese food with half a stick of butter and soy sauce, stirring and contentedly stirring in an increasing amount of heavy cream. She's humming something softly, and Ariel sits at the table and just looks at her.  
"I can feel your eyes," Belle says, tasting a noodle and adding pepper to the pan.  
"You realize the food was cooked when it arrived here, right?"  
"But now it will be cooked better!"  
Ariel concedes this and gets up from the table as Cindy comes downstairs. Being Cindy, and therefore just a little crazy, she's already fully dressed in her gown, hair up, makeup on, and she's walking like there's a perfectly straight line that her feet must touch with every step.  
"Morning, Cindy," Ariel says, walking to a cabinet to grab a couple of bowls. "Are you in for breakfast?"  
Cindy looks around before she answers. "Oh, n-no, I'll... be fine," she says, waving vaguely. Ariel can tell that's it's going to be one of those days, so she puts the bowls next to the stove before going over to Cindy, who's standing stock still in the doorway. She gently takes Cindy's arm and leads her to the couch.  
"Are you nervous about today?" Ariel asks in her fake Dr Phil voice, although she never calls it that in front of Cindy.  
"W-well, yes... but I have to, so..." and she drifts off again, staring down at the floor.  
"We'll all be there. There's ten of us now, so maybe you and me can sit in the second row or something, let the new girls have the glory. Plus Snow, she likes the attention."  
Cindy nods slowly, and Ariel gets up and goes back into the kitchen. Mulan's sitting at the table now, astride the chair, chugging a Coke for all she's worth. She finishes, and lets out a righteous burp. Belle applauds- she says she's used to it- and starts dishing up the food.  
"Is anyone else up,” Ariel starts to say but hears the thundering feet start, along with the yells of “I'm first this morning!” and “I swear, I will cut anyone that tries to beat me in!”  
“And Jasmine's up,” Mulan comments to no one in particular. Making a perfect hook shot into the recycling, she bolts up the stairs, bellowing “I call second!”  
Lighter feet sound on the stairs, and she looks up to see her daughter hurtling into the kitchen. “Morning, Mom!” Melody chirps, and smiles sunnily as if she wasn't threatening several people just a couple of moments ago. She throws her arms around Ariel, and fist bumps with Belle before running back upstairs.  
“My kid is strange,” Ariel sighs, but she can't disguise the love in her voice. She doesn't want to, anyway, and it's not like Belle doesn't know how she feels.  
“Yes, she is, but she's my step-daughter, that's bound to do something,” Belle points out, and before anyone else can come down, she steals a kiss and sits down at the table.  
Ariel knows this isn't the life she had envisioned as a child, as an adult, but this is the life she has, and she's grateful. It's messy, it's chaotic, and it's real.


End file.
